Middle Earth comes to the Midlands

Beyond the man in the leather waistcoat, past beards and medieval-style black jeans that are laced together where seams should be, is a vision in blue with bright yellow boots. Hey dol, merry dol, as JRR Tolkien's character would sing, it's Tom Bombadil. Wearing a blue feather in a felt hat, a blue cape and carrying a posy of lavender, Mr Bombadil - real name Firiel Tindomerel - flew from Switzerland to Birmingham as Middle Earth came to the Midlands yesterday.

Elvish singing ripples across the reception at Aston University, where 700 delegates from around the world have gathered for Tolkien 2005, a four-day conference to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the full publication of The Lord of the Rings. The singing comes from the substantial figure of Mole - Paul Smith in the normal world - who crams into his days a full-time job, semi-professional church singing, a "personal attachment" to Tolkien's leading dwarf Gimli and regular attendance at Discworld conventions.

The Terry Pratchett gatherings are "much less highbrow," he says. "It's interesting to see a newbug have their first discussion with a serious Tolkien scholar and watch their face go ... " Mole loosens his lower jaw in bewilderment. "It's either because of the number of times the scholar puts the boot into Peter Jackson [the director of The Lord of the Rings films] or is making a point they have never heard of."

Fans of Tolkien, or "the professor" as he is reverently known, pride themselves on their scholarship. Hundreds cram into a lecture room to hear a talk by Professor Tom Shippey on the proverbs of The Lord of the Rings. As he reads a Bilbo Baggins poem about Strider, his audience mutter along as if reciting the Lord's Prayer.

But Tolkien's followers are also keen to show they can have fun. Scholarly discussions stop for Merry and Pippin hobbit dances and evening performances by the Reduced Silmarillion Company.

"We have the academic side and the frivolous side together," says Amon Hen Andrew, or Andrew Butler as he is normally known, who sports Reactolite glasses and a Panama hat. "The hobbit dance workshop is a bit of light relief. It's traditional English dance fitted into the ethos of Middle Earth."

Some don't mind being seen as geeks. "We probably are," shrugs Philip Poots, 16, who estimates he has spent £4,000 on Tolkien collectables since he first read the books. "Everybody has their oddities."

Lawrence Wagoner from Colorado got into Tolkien when the 60s swung. "It started out very big on the college campuses in the US. Everybody was prancing around in the woods anyway, with flowers in their hair and mushrooms between their teeth," he says. Now he deals in hobbit paraphernalia. "It's more of a chance to hoard the stuff and play with it myself. My wife sits there and stares at me in despair."

Others are more bothered by the stereotype of nerdy male fantasy fans. There is plenty of dodgy dentistry and not an Orlando Bloom in sight, but a surprising number of delegates are women, ethereal Elvish types who drift around in crushed velvet smocks.

"I'm the chair of the Tolkien Society and I'm most definitely female," says Chris Crawshaw, who estimates that men make up 60% of the conference guests. Half the society's executive committee are also women.

"Some women say he's a chauvinist because there's not many women in the books - they are either idealised or warriors," says Lisbeth Connelly. "That's a misconception. Apart from anything else, he tells such a good story and his descriptive passages are amazing."

Almost all delegates declare it is not the films but the complexity of Tolkien's vision that drew them to Middle Earth. "The catharsis of fantasy is that it provides escape," says Mole. "The more convincing the world into which you escape, the more engaging it becomes. Tolkien has constructed his escape so diligently and comprehensively you're entering a convincing and plausible alternative reality."

Devotees happily mingle in the "dealers' room", where tie-dye T-shirts jostle for space with figurines of the Morgul Lord and Middle Earth cutlery - "10% off".

Tom Bombadil is on a more spiritual mission. "We are not really into meeting people," he says. "We feel the spirit that is Tolkien's legacy. The whole book teaches you a way of life. It's not just a novel, it gives you a lot, and we give a little of what we receive back to the author as a tribute. That's our philosophy."

Wielding a wizard's staff, Gianluca Comastre explains Tolkien's essence. "It's the spirit of sacrifice, to share our feelings and our legends, to be together. In the book, too, from Frodo to Gandalf, everyone has to sacrifice something important to him."